Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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entreat him not to risk his tranquillity by too much admiration there,
Everybody had a part either too long or too short; nobody would attend as they ought; nobody would remember on which side they were to come in; nobody but the complainer would observe any directions.
regretted that his part was not more considerable,
she could not, would not, dared not attempt it:
to believe their performance would, indeed, have such nature and feeling in it as must ensure their credit, and make it a very suffering exhibition to herself.
Whatever might be its effect, however, she must stand the brunt of it again that very day.
She could not come. Dr. Grant, professing an indisposition,
could not spare his wife.
Why was not Miss Crawford to be applied to as well? Or why had not she rather gone to her own room, as she had felt to be safest, instead of attending the rehearsal at all? She had known it would irritate and distress her; she had known it her duty to keep away. She was properly punished.
She would do her best.
an earnest of the most serious determination,
He had never been so kind, so very kind to her in his life. His manner seemed changed, his voice was quick from the agitation of joy; and all that had been awful in his dignity seemed lost in tenderness.
how dreadfully she must have missed him, and how impossible it would have been for her to bear a lengthened absence.
He was going, and, if not voluntarily going, voluntarily intending to stay away; for, excepting what might be due to his uncle, his engagements were all self-imposed. He might talk of necessity, but she knew his independence. The hand which had so pressed hers to his heart! the hand and the heart were alike motionless and passive now!
He was gone— he had touched her hand for the last time, he had made his parting bow,
his falling in love with Julia had come to nothing;
but with so many to care for, how was it possible for even her activity to keep pace with her wishes?
you seemed almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect.
his great attention, his paternal kindness, but he was quite mistaken in supposing she had the smallest desire of breaking through her engagement, or was sensible of any change of opinion or inclination since her forming it. She had the highest esteem for Mr. Rushworth's character and disposition, and could not have a doubt of her happiness with him.
determined
to behave more cautiously to Mr. Rushworth in future, that her father might not be again suspecting her.
Henry Crawford had destroyed her happiness, but he should not know that he had done it; he should not destroy her credit, her appearance, her prosperity, too. He should not have to think of her as pining in the retirement of Mansfield for him, rejecting Sotherton and London, independence and splendour, for his sake.
Independence was more needful than ever; the want of it at Mansfield more sensibly felt. She was less and less able to endure the restraint which her father imposed. The liberty which his absence had given was now become absolutely necessary.
She must escape from him and Mansfield as soon as possible, and find consolation in fortune and consequence, bustle and the world, for a wounded spirit.
Mrs. Rushworth was quite ready to retire, and make way for the fortunate young woman whom her dear son had selected;
for she had made the match; she had done everything;
her wishing very much to hear it,
her having never yet heard it since its being in Mansfield.
to call again, to take them in her walk whenever she could, to come and hear more of the harp,
he did mean to go with her. He too was taking leave.
the pleasure of her company too.
for what was it after all whether she went or staid? but if her uncle were to be a great while considering and deciding, and with very grave looks, and those grave looks directed to her, and at last decide against her, she might not be able to appear properly submissive and indifferent.
she was very much obliged to her aunt Bertram for sparing her,
she was endeavouring to put her aunt's evening work in such a state as to prevent her being missed.
there would be a something to do and to suffer for it, which she could not think lightly of;
Edmund's being so soon to take orders, coming upon her like a blow that had been suspended, and still hoped uncertain and at a distance,
She had begun to think of him; she felt that she had, with great regard, with almost decided intentions;
but she would now meet him with his own cool feelings.
It was plain that he could have no serious views, no true attachment, by fixing himself in a situation which he must know she would never stoop to. She would learn to match him in his indifference. She would henceforth admit his attentions without any idea beyond immediate amusement. If he could so command his affections, hers should do her no harm.
its being impossible among so many dishes but that some must be cold.
she had never played the game nor seen it played in her life;
what it would be not to see Edmund every day;
the church, sink the clergyman, and see only the respectable, elegant, modernised, and occasional residence of a man of independent fortune,
as the destroyer of all this,
It was time to have done with cards, if sermons prevailed;
A ball at such a time! His daughters absent and herself not consulted!
She must be the doer of everything: Lady Bertram would of course be spared all thought and exertion, and it would all fall upon her. She should have to do the honours of the evening;
as to the rooms he would think fittest to be used,
having been on the point of proposing the 22nd herself, as by far the best day for the purpose.
"how she should be dressed"